So I find myself in an unexpected situation, that of being far straighter, and more upright, BUT being less able than before the operations.

Positives?

I’ll be able to reach 2 inches higher?
I’ll look better?
I’ll be able to sit ski better, as turning right and left will now require the same technique, making it far less confusing.
I’ll once again be able to use my stand up wheelchair ( and feel less self conscious as I shan’t be twisted all over the place )
Pushing along in my chair MAY be better, through me being symmetrical?
The result is permanent, as it really is impossible to break now ?

Downsides

Significantly less able to turn my shoulders either side.

Can’t touch the floor anymore, from my chair ( though the chair could actually be made lower, so maybe not? )

Can’t turn over in bed? Tho hard to say as not in a normal bed, here in hospital.

Loss of ‘ forwardness’ means pushing chair will be just my arms, and not any help from the little bit of trunk control I had before.

Getting into and out of my hand bike may have become virtually impossible by myself now? Again, I don’t know, but my previous technique won’t work now, I know that.

Going to the Loo possibly much harder, through less available movement – I won’t go into the detail, as it’s a bit shocking.

Transfers are looking like they’ll be a lot harder, as they rely on being able to lean your top half forward – and I’ve lost about 30 degrees of ability, which is massive.

Should I have done this, then ?

Yes, as my spine was deteriorating fast, and would have continued to do so – giving my crazy spasms and non stop pain that I couldn’t feel, but my body didn’t like, making me ill a lot of the time.

I therefore had no choice.

Excuse my language.

So it looks confirmed that my final operation ( at least in 2016 ) will be in a week – Thursday, the 15th of September.

I appear to have cheered up a bit, too, having been let outside twice now.
Fresh ( ish ) London air is obviously good for me.
I wasn’t designed to be kept indoors, I don’t think.
Plus there’s an ice cream van permanently outside this hospital ..

So far, repair is good
Side effects of morphine are awful – mentally I’m still all at sea, and very forgetful – I can’t remember the day, or events in their actual sequence.
I’m not in pain, at least not much.
I feel down, for sure
Spasms still happening.
Very odd being fixed upright, so have no sideways movement at all, and far less forward movement, so the change is not all positive.. thus far. I’m told I’ll just get used to that ( not being able to move much at all )

Next op, one from the front, is on Thursday or Friday next week, they now tell me.

They now are letting me out, if someone pushes me. Just as well, as I’m going stir crazy in this room ( it’s a room by itself, not a ward.

Thank you to all visitors – I’d make a list if I could guarantee I’ve not left anyone out, and don’t want to offend anyone!
But you know who you are…

Thanks for all the Milky Bars
I’ve now had enough for a lifetime.
Not quite enough to put me off white chocolate, but almost…
But I’m not complaining !

I also quite like popcorn, all of a sudden?
And peas ( the frozen, in a bag, type – tho obviously warmed up ). Actually, I’ve always quite liked eating frozen peas, frozen.
I wonder if I’m alone with that one?

A few people have asked what my final op is for.
If you look at the picture – which is actually me, stripped of flesh and blood, you’ll see that two of the lower vertabrae are crumbling, in a pretty bad way.

So he’s going to fuse those two, and put a ‘ cage ‘ around them, stabilising me for good…at least that’s the plan.

Having come round a bit, I can now realise which of the side effects apply to me.

The mental ones are very apparent to me, tho constipation is high up there.

They’ve fed me laxatives almost non stop over the last 10 days, though nothing significant had happened.
Well not until earlier today, when 2 lady physio’s got me into an upright position in the bed, and proposed they help me into my wheelchair for a bit.

That movement proved fairly cataclysmic.

I now realise that, after morphine, I become completely paranoid, suspicious of everybody, misinterpret everything that most people say and do ( including what they don’t do, but I think they should be doing )

3 years ago in Toulon, I still remember ever so clearly that the small cupboard, in the corner of my Intensive Care room, was alive and wanted to kill me.
I knew of course that that was impossible, yet remained convinced that it was going to happen.
Not being able to speak, I had to somehow communicate that the cupboard was possessed by the devil and needed to be removed from the room.

You can imagine how successful I was in getting that across to the French speaking medics…

I’ve had to check the texts I’ve sent to make sure they’re not too weird, and a few may have been.
If you had one, then please be understanding.

As I have another operation in a week, then I’m minded to not have my phone for a day, except if deprived of it I’ll no doubt object unpleasantly.
So we’ll see what happens…

The total mindf*** is yet another complication, or consequence, of my bike crash.

Bad day all round, that one.

I have to say that all this stuff is really unpleasant.
The operations are pretty awful, the confinement is also not good.

The psychological effects are nasty too.
I’m on so many drugs, and I’m very much aware that I’m thinking differently ( and not in a positive way at all )

See picture of side effects of just the morphine.

I’ll be glad when this shit is past me.

I came to, in agony, at 6pm yesterday.
Took them what seemed like an age to sort the morphine out, but was actually only 15 minutes.

A night of delirium followed, but fairly ok now.

I’m glad I only have just the one major spine operation to go, next week.

It’s fair to say that I’ve had about enough of my back being opened up…

The op tomorrow, at 1pm, is to make good the stuff that’s fallen apart, by fixing new metal above and below the part that’s come loose.
He’s going even lower, to my pelvis.

I’ll have a scar right from my A hole to my neck.

The next op will then be to ‘ shore up’ my disintegrating L2 and L3 vertebrae.
Both long op’s …with anticipated long recovery times…

A shame that they have come apart!